Tripping Up

“The only thing you do all day is listen to One Direction and read Alice in Something-land! Do something with your life!” mother yelled.

“It’s called Alice in Wonderland, mom!” I screamed back, tears flooded my eyes. She never understood me.

“Don’t you talk back to me, young lady! I gave birth to you! I feed you three meals a day and work my ass off to put a roof over your head! You should be thankful!” mother stated.

There she goes again. Telling me I should be thankful for everything she has done for me. How she has struggled to keep us alive and happy. I am grateful for my mom, but I wasn’t listening. I picked up my copy of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and ran out of the house.

“Eris! Where do you think you are going?” mother asked shocked.

I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I just had to get out. Out of that dreaded house so I could free my mind.

I ran through the city until I reached the outer edge. The only thing you could see was a field of daisies. They stretched out for miles and miles. In the midst of it all was a single oak tree, my oak tree. With open arms, I ran toward it. I embraced it as if it were a real human being.

When I was done being a tree hugger, reaching up into the leaves I pulled down a rope ladder. I climbed up and up until there was no more rope to climb. On a sturdy branch to the left, was a magical tree house. It used to be my home away from home when I was little. Now, it was just a place to sit and think. My mother didn’t know about it though. It was my little secret and no one else’s.

Pulling myself up into the magical house, I sat inside the doorway and dangled my feet over the edge. Once I was settled in, I began to relax. I wiped the rest of the remaining tears away and stared up at the clouds. Contemplating if one cloud looked like a dinosaur or a sail boat, I noticed off to the side was a fluffy white cloud that looked exactly like a rabbit. Remembering I brought my Alice in Wonderland book, I pulled it out. I smiled to myself as I took my bookmark out. Then I started to indulge myself as I read the first line.

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, ‘and what is the use of a book,' thought Alice ‘without pictures or conversation.’